


Just A Few Things

by Smuternatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, castiel crumbles when it comes to dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smuternatural/pseuds/Smuternatural





	Just A Few Things

Few things get to Castiel. He can take just about everything that’s thrown at him. Perks of being an angel and all that.

Ghosts and ghouls are nothing. Demons are tedious but he can deal with them. Other angels are just annoying. But humans. Humans he’s never been able to really understand.

One human in particular gets to him. Unravels him. Flusters him. Makes him forget he’s a giant, fear-inducing, evil smiting, all powerful angel of the Lord who can crush you with a snap of his fingers.

And it’s not the obvious things that get to him. It’s the little, seemingly insignificant things.

Sure, Dean Winchester is alot to unpack. He’s a brash, overly confident, balls the the wall, charge-in-and-kill-everything-in-my-path-before-I’ve-even-thought-about-other-possible-plans kind of human. He’s not careful, he’s reckless, he cares about everyone else more than himself. He drinks, he lies, he drives too fast. The list literally goes on and on.

But none of that gets to Castiel as much as the little things.

Like the way Deans breath ghosts across Castiels neck when they hug. Or the way the sunlight hits his face and reveals freckles Castiel has yet to count. His stupid flannel shirts that make him look like a walking lumberjack model.

But right now, one of the things getting to Castiel is Dean’s skin. Warm, surprisingly soft skin. Touching it lights a fire inside Castiel he never knew was there until he met Dean. It’s like coming home. Like it was made for him. Like Heaven. Dean’s skin is Heaven.

The skin on his neck is his favorite. Burying his face in it makes Castiel forget everything else in the world. Kissing it comforts him. Tasting it, like he is now, makes him go mad.

His lips are a close second. Plump, surrendering, wet, hot, made for latching on to. Sucking and biting them elicit the third thing that gets to Castiel.

The sounds that come out of this normally rugged, whiskey swilling, gun-toting man are downright sinful. Over the years, Castiel as learned how to pull the most glorious noises out of Dean’s mouth. When he parts Dean’s lips with his tongue, that earns him a small gasp. Hot breath washes over his face with a smirk that quickly is consumed by Castiels mouth. When Castiel sucks Deans bottom lip, that gets a fist gripped against his back, holding onto whatever fabric is there for dear life and a groan that comes from somewhere deep within the man. But, his favorite, is when he bites. Dean folds like a cheap suit and actually whines. Whines. The need and desire behind it makes Castiel almost lose his composure every time.

Surrendering isn’t something Dean normally does willingly. He’ll put up a fight until he’s beaten half to death and bloody from head to boot. The word isn’t even in Dean’s vocabulary. So when he lets his guard down and finally surrenders to Castiel, it’s holy. And THAT gets to Castiel.

The feeling of having Dean on his knees, eyes cast upward, mouth open and wanting is something Castiel never knew he needed. This “I’d rather die than give up” man looking up through his lashes as he nuzzles and touches and strokes and licks and sucks is indescribable. There aren’t words for this, and that’s saying alot since Castiel literally knows every language. The way Dean’s eyes never leave Castiels while he licks and kisses his way up the angels body. The way he waits patiently for Castiel to tell him to get on the bed. The way he willingly lays spread out on the bed. The way he wraps his legs around the man on top of him. The way he effortlessly accepts Castiel into him.

His breath is coming out in pants, his skin is hot and pliant, his moans fill the room urging Castiel for more. One word sends him over the edge.

“Please,” Dean whispers.

That word. That one little word has Castiel soaring. It’s better than flying. It’s more uplifting that any word from his superiors. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard in his thousands of years on Earth.

“Please.”

It gets to him.

Gripping Deans arm where his hand print is seared into his skin, feeling the hot breath beat off his chest, he bites and sucks gently on Dean’s lip, watching the mans gaze drift downward. He moans loudly as he watches the angels hand work him in time with the forceful thrusts.

The thing that gets to Castiel the most, the thing that will be his absolute undoing in this world is watching Dean come apart in his hands. Watching the man below him completely and utterly come undone is the most incredible thing in the universe.

His body thrusting. His chest heaving. His breath catching in his throat every time Castiel squeezes just right. His eyes hooded, trying their best to stay open. Moaning, groaning, crying out as he falls to pieces in Castiels hand. The last long sigh as he comes down. Feeling the angel shudder on top of him, he rolls his head to the side with a tired smile.

Not much gets to Castiel. Except Dean Winchester.


End file.
